The Nephilim
by Solanio
Summary: Even as a baby, Sophie just had this way about her, much to her mother's chagrin.
1. Prelude

_The theme is angels in the World of Darkness as a variant. It's part of an ongoing chronicle at my web site (see profile) using a shared character. If you would like to contribute to this chronicle, please stop by. Otherwise, any helpful hints and critques are most appreciated. - Cheers, Sol._

**Prelude**

"She's skinny."

Myung, the baby's mother, nodded obsequiously. She did not want to offend the fortune teller so she took the abuse, chaffing all the while. She gazed at her daughter, who was admittedly skinny. Myung had tried everything, and the baby did not lack for appetite. But to look at her, one would think Myung a terrible mother, starving her child. Myung so wished she had had a normal child, like the others, fat and fussy. This baby was not fussy. And she never cried. Myung wanted to pick her up, comfort her, head off the inevitable tears that would never come. So she waited, sometimes holding off affection for just a bit, hoping that the baby would eventually cry, like a normal baby.

The fortune teller was scowling, also unpleased by what he saw. Myung had so hoped the fortune would be favorable. It would help out things at home. The baby should have been a boy. Myung sat uncomfortably, still, as if stone-hearted. She held back the moisture in her eyes by blinking, a lot. Her heart went out not to her daughter, lying helpless on the floor, but to herself, for her shame in having given birth to yet another girl, and one with such problems. The fortune teller had not commented on the scars on the baby's hands and could not see the ones on her back, sparing Myung another round of explanations. Fortunately, the doctors promised that she would grow up normally, like all other children. If only she would cry.

"You say she was born in the morning, just after midnight?"

"Yes, Myung nodded, blinking. Yes, she was. Is that good?"

"Bad," the fortune teller told her after consulting his charts. "Was she born with her eyes open or shut?"

In Myung's time, when she was a girl, babies should never be born with open eyes. Having open eyes really did not matter. Where she grew up, it was best not to be too different.

"Open," she confessed. "That's bad, I know."

"No, it's good."

Myung thought about how much money she had with her. How much would it take to buy a good fortune? She imagined the possibilities, wondering if it were all a scam of sorts. None of her friends confessed that their child had been given a bad fortune, that they had paid for the intercession of ancestors and spirits. But Myung thought about it; since no one talked, no one would know that everyone had been given bad fortunes. Myung decided she should have been a fortune teller. It was not going well. She wondered how much it would cost.

A street vendor hawking ice cream distracted her. It was hot, muggy. She could hear his voice coming through the open window, kept open in hopeful anticipation of a breeze from the river. A movement from the bird cage suspended from the ceiling by the window distracted her. She watched a yellow bird the fortune teller kept for a pet dancing every which way in its cage. Myung felt sorry for the bird but then thought that everyone had their cages. Some were just not as obvious.

A gurgle from the baby and Myung's glance drifted back to her daughter. So-hie was watching the bird too. The fortune teller was busy with his books, not paying either of them any attention. Suddenly, for no reason, the cage fell the floor, spilling seed and gravel. The bright yellow fluttering of the bird was a rushing noise at Myung's ear. She ducked. She looked up to the open window and then around the room. The bird had chosen instead to perch on So-hie. It hopped about on her knee, chirping happily. Even the fortune teller took note, not even bothering to try and recapture his pet.

"I'm so sorry," Myung apologized, at once feeling stupid and angry. She had not done anything to cause the cage to fall. But seeing the bird and her daughter, she felt connected to the event somehow. A chirping from the window distracted Myung. She looked. Another bird, no two, plus two more just arriving... That was strange. These were wild birds, drab birds, the sort of birds that were better heard and not seen.

The fortune teller closed his book, opening his mouth wide instead. An assembly of birds came and danced about So-hie. The baby tried to turn but her motor skills had not fully developed yet. Mostly she strained her head to look. The birds had formed a ring around Myung's baby. Alarmed, Myung went to shoo them away but the fortune teller raised his hand. He looked at the baby, and took off his round glasses, cleaning them with a cloth he kept in his pocket. He glanced again as if to verify to himself that he was seeing what he was seeing. Muttering, the fortune teller went to another bookcase, a black lacquered formal piece, with thick glass obscuring the books inside. He unlocked it with a key he had around his neck. Sticking his body inside the cavernous space to rummage around, he pulled out an old scroll. Myung glanced at it. The characters were Chinese; her Chinese was not good. He mumbled as he read it, and glanced at So-hie.

Myung craned her neck. There was a drawing. Something with wings, like a bird, black wings, and fierce demon eyes. Why would the man be looking at something like that? Myung scowled, suspicious. She imagined a scenario where a stinky old man with nothing better to do trained a bunch of birds in order to create some mysterious event. No doubt a bad omen.

"Mrs Kyung, this is very bad."

Myung was not surprised. She did not say anything, waiting for the declared exorbitant sum to be announced, a cure against demon birds.

"You must go."

"What?" Myung had to admit, the man was practised. He really did look alarmed.

"You must go. Wait!"

Ah, there it was. Myung remained patient. She would wait, curious to hear just how high this ridiculous sum would be.

The fortune teller rummaged in his locked case and brought out a jar. Inside the jar, he found a small charm. He handed it to Myung.

"For your daughter. When she turns seven, see that she wears it. Never let her take it off, not for bed, not for bath. She should wear it forever, for her protection, and yours. And if you lose it, you will be cursed. Now, get out."

"I don't want this. I'm not going to pay for it."

"Of course you are not. And it is not for you. It is for her."

The fortune teller clapped his hands and pointed at So-hie. He shooed the birds away, not even caring that his yellow pet bird escaped out the window with the others. More proof, Myung thought, that he had trained the lot of them.

"I am not going to pay you for this," Myung insisted, holding out the charm to the man. It was heavy, and looked to be of gold. Probably just gilded lead, she thought. And those dull red stones were just cheap glass. What kind of cheap junk was he trying to sell her?

"Of course you are not. You could never afford a charm like that. It is for your daughter, not for you. Now, take her and get out of here. Never come back."

The man was beginning to be insulting. Myung opened her purse, just as eager to be gone as he was for her to be gone. She would stop for ice cream, she decided. She deserved it after this. She took out extra. She did not want a scene and frankly, retelling this ridiculous tale to her friends was worth a little extra.

The fortune teller pushed the money and her hand back. He pointed at the baby, shrinking from it at the same time. "Will you leave now, or do I have to call the police?"

Incredulous, Myung grabbed the baby and was led to the door. It slammed shut behind her. Very strange, she thought. And very rude too. She wondered how a quack like that ever got any business. She still had the charm in her hand. She put it in her pocket.

"Come on, So-hie. Mommy will buy us some ice cream."

It was hot as Myung walked outside into the street. She carried So-hie in her arms. So-hie looked above her mother's shoulder, gazing at the blue sky just barely peeking through the crowded buildings lining the narrow street. High above them, several birds watched them go. So-hie waved at them and they danced on the sills and flew in somersaults, making her laugh.

**story by Solanio**


	2. Chapter 1

"Nickie, I'm too tired to think. I just cannot think anymore. I want to go home, just go to bed." Carlos bowed his head, pulling his cap over his eyes, hoping to steal some pseudo-sleep.

"Cmon, Carlos. We need a plan. If we don't come up with a plan..." With school term starting up, Nickie realized most of their energies and attention would be drawn elsewhere. They had to have a plan, in place, working, soon. "Cmon guys. Sophie?"

Sophie was not tired; she was seldom, if ever, tired. But still, no bolt from Heaven had struck her brow with a thunderous idea. They were stuck, and they all knew it. Nickie was just more stubborn than the rest of them.

"I'm sorry," she shrugged.

Nickie visibly sagged. She pulled her petite frame farther in her voluminous pullover, hoping to find knitted shelter and comfort. She seemed close to tears. None of them were feeling particularly good about what was going to happen.

"We have no choice," Debbie finally said, surrendering to the inevitable. "They are just going to have to take their chances with City Services. We did our best."

"That's not good enough!" Nickie rallied once more to the battle cry. "You know what that means. City Services didn't do shit for them before. In a week, they will be back where they were, out on the street, kicked around by cops, chased out of the homeless camps by the other homeless - or dead. For Christ's sake, Debbie. We are talking about fucking kids!"

No one said anything. There seemed to be nothing to say.

Nickie sighed. "Alright, let's go over the drill. We raise at least two thousand by this weekend. We have the charity auction. We got a hundred bucks donation from Aldo Pesto. Carlos, there is more of that money out there, I know it. We'll work the streets. You canvas University and I'll work California this weekend. Don't take no for an answer. Sophie, can you help run the auction?"

Sophie shook her head. "No, sorry. I can't put my parents off again. They need me at the restaurant."

Nickie snapped her fingers. She pointed at Sophie. "Sophie! Do you think your parents..." She stopped. Sophie was shaking her head.

"My parents have already put my two sisters through college, are putting me through Stanford, and my brother Kevin is going to Berkeley next year. They are not rich. All their money is going to our educations."

"What about a small donation?" Carlos asked. "Anything would help."

Again, Sophie shook her head. "Whatever is left over, they give to the Church. And believe me, people like my parents, people like the ones at my parents' church, if I they knew what the money was for, they wouldn't help anyway. People like my parents figure that people at the shelter did something to deserve what they got."

"Cmon guys!" Beth railed. "This is defeatest. Look, we do the auction, Nickie and Carlos do their thing. I'm going up to the City to pawn some jewelry and stuff. I think we can come up with two grand, somehow.

"Yeah, but that only buys us a month," Carlos pointed out. "We need a permanent solution."

Nickie spoke. "Well, unless you got fifteen grand in your back pocket you have been holding out on us, that isn't going to happen." Nickie got up. The meeting was over. "Let's get some sleep. We have a busy weekend to get ready for. Sophie, you maybe help out Carlos by calling on the phone and we'll see where we are at when you get back."

Sophie got up and gave her friend a hug."Sorry, Nickie."

"That's O.K, babe. I know you got the family thing to deal with." Nickie patted Sophie on the back.

On the way out, Sophie grabbed a sleepy Carlos and gave him a hug.

"Hey, babe. I'm going to bail on the phone gig tomorrow. Beth gave me an idea. I' ve got some stuff. Maybe I can pawn something and come up with some money."

Carlos nodded and hugged her back. "K - good luck then."

Sophie waved good-bye. She would do what she could, but it wouldn't be enough. All of them knew it. Debbie was right. The shelter would have to close. The kids and famillies, they would have to take their chances with City Services. And that was a death sentance for some of them. No one wanted a bunch of H.I.V. positive kids in their neighborhood. It was a modern leper colony. They would have to take consolation that for the year and half they had kept it going, having a shelter in the closed factory had at least been a reprieve for those people. For a year and a half, they were not hunted, they were not beaten up, they were not robbed, they did not go hungry, and people treated them like human beings.

On the way to her car, Sophie spotted a license plate on a jaguar. It had had one of those frames that people bought, with stupid catch slogans. This one said _Angels Are Watching Over Me_. Sophie shook her head. Maybe if those kids could afford jags, they wouldn't need angels. And she doubted they had any anyway.

**story by Solanio**


	3. Chapter2

"That's it. That's all I can do."

Sophie looked at the money. Six-hundred bucks. When she had been modeling, she had paid five, six times that much for the jewelry. She wished she had some of that money now. Where had it all gone? She must have pissed it all away, shopping gigs in Paris and Rome. What did she have to show for it?

"I'll take it."

"I'm sorry I couldn't do more. I did as much as I could, knowing what the money was for."

Sophie sincerely doubted that Sid was sorry or that he couldn't do more. He was younger than she had thought from talking to him on the phone. He was polite; he'd offered her tea when she came in; well-dressed, very cute with short blond hair, deep blue eyes, and broad shoulders. And his store was upscale trendy. If he weren't so obviously gay, and such a total greedy prick, she might have been interested in him.

"You got anything else?"

"Nothing you would be interested in."

"What's that?" Sid nodded at the old chain showing on Sophie's neck.

"Oh, it's an old family heirloom. It's not very valuable. It's kind of ugly in fact."

"May I see it? You never know. Those old ugly family heirlooms can sometimes bring in quite a bit of money. Maybe enough to help you out on your project."

Sophie would not have termed saving people's lives a _project_. "It's something that has been in my family through generations. I've had it since I was a girl and it has sort of been entrusted to me. I can't sell it. It's really not mine."

Sophie pulled it out of her shirt, but did not take it off. She promised her mother that she would never take it off. It was warm from her skin. It felt strange, sort of personal, to have Sid holding it in his and when it has just been touching her chest. He seemed very interested in it. He went and got a magnifying glass and bent back down to examine it closer.

"Cannot sell this, eh? That is too bad. I can easily get you twenty-five thousand for it."

"Twenty-five thousand! Dollars?"

"Do you know anything about it?"

Sophie shook her head.

"The characters are, um, a sort of ancient Chinese. But the provenance is Korean. I think it's ancient Silla, or pre-Silla. There was a Chinese colony there. It's not the sort of thing that is well known or which usually commands a lot of money. I just happen to have a private client who specializes in artifacts of this type. It is more of an academic interest. Of course, the precious stones do drive up the value. Maybe up to thirty-five thousand."

Sophie sagged. She was wearing the salvation of over forty people on her neck, maybe more. And that salvation would last a long time. "I can't. I... I really so wish I could, believe me. But I can't. It's a Korean sort of thing. I would be betraying my ancestors, my family. It does not really belong to me. It belongs to future generations, that kind of thing. My Mom gave it to me when I was seven. And someday I'll have to give it to someone in my family to carry it on."

"I understand, really I do." Sid smiled. He handed her a card. "I am not positive, but I am fairly confident that I can get you maybe forty-five thousand for it, maybe fifty, fifty-five. That card has my cell phone line if you change your mind. You can call me anytime, night or day. And that would be sixty thousand, cash. No need to pay taxes. My client would not report it, and neither would I."

Sophie was close to tears. "I have to go."

Sid Meyer watched the young woman get in her car. She was driving an old honda convertible, nicely maintained but not worth much. He dialed a number.

"Mister Ionescu, interesting news. You would never guess what was in my store just a moment ago."

**story by Solanio**


	4. Chapter 3

"Sophie, Mom. _MY_ name is Sophie." 

"I don't know no So-fee," her mother insisted, hands on hips. "I only have one daughter. Her name So-hie. I tell person on phone, we got no So-fee here."

"Great, Mom, thanks. Now he knows I have a psycho for a mother." Sophie kept her voice down. Though she was obviously annoyed, Sophie was hardly surprised. She only wished she hadn't been busy out front and had been the one to answer the phone.

"You no talk to you mother this way. You show respect to you mother. You a bad girl," her mother told her, wagging her finger in Sophie's face.

Sophie's father walked by, on his way back from the kitchen with supplies for the sushi bar.

"Did you hear what your daughter just said to me?" Mrs. Kyung told him, effortlessly shifting to Korean.

"Show you mother respect. You must respect you mother," Mr. Kyung told his daughter, his mouth moving robotically in a practised rhythm while he sought to remove himself as quickly as possible from the scene.

Suddenly, Myung Kyung stopped berating her daughter. A thought had just occurred to her. "Who is this boy who call you?" she asked. "Is he Korean?"

"Carlos is not Korean, no mother. And before you ask, he's just a friend. We're going to a concert on Tuesday." Myung scowled, apparently not believing her daughter. Before her mother could lecture her on being a "good girl" in the more social sense, that "good husbands," meaning Korean men, would only accept "good" girls as wives, Sophie decided to head her off. "He's gay, Mom. You have nothing to worry about."

Myung's mouth froze open. Sophie could read the thoughts moving across her brain like a teletype. Her daughter was now associating with deviants. Fortunately the needs of the customers out front spared Sophie any further 3rd degree. It was lunchtime, and the usual crowd of attendees attracted to the all-you-can-eat Korean and sushi buffet came to Sophie's rescue. Kevin, her brother, who was furiously working the sushi bar, called for help.

Shaking her head, Myung was speechless, but only for the briefest of moments. Taking in the crowd at a glance, she at once saw something else to complain about. Sophie, without looking out, knew at once that one over her favorite regulars had sat down at a table out front.

"Oh, that bike boy, he here again."

Putting on her apron, Sophie smiled.

"He no have money, he no eat here. You don't pay for him. That money for you college."

Sophie shook her head. "Mom, what I do with my tip money is my own business. Besides, it was only that one time," she lied.

Myung gave up and went to help her regulars, while Sophie did the same. A number of young men smiled and sat up straight, ignoring the buffet for table service; until Myung showed up to take their orders. Suddenly, the buffet was popular again. Sophie smiled at them, said "Hi" a number of times, but headed straight for Winston's table. Winston, a bike messenger who had been friends with Sophie all through high school, was pouring over odd bills and coins he had received as tips. Winston was dyslexic, or something. He wasn't stupid. In fact, though her family didn't believe her, Sophie insisted he was a genius. Countering that argument was the fact that Winston always seemed to have a hard time figuring out how much money he had and was at a disadvantage when dealing with strangers because of this. For some reason, he could never get over the fact that paper money was worth more, not less, than coins. As a result, Winston was often hungry, especially just before payday. So he haunted cheap buffets. Since he ate like a horse, he was notoriously unwelcome at most.

"Hi Sophie," he said, not looking up. His short wild red hair moved around in circles as he tried to fathom his riches.

Like Sophie, Winston seemed to be able to take in a scene at a glance. He always knew when she was around, just like she knew he was around. He was still trying to count out his money, seeing if he had enough for lunch. He sighed and pushed everything he had, a dollar bill and a large bunch of coins, over to her. They were mostly nickels and pennies. Sophie mentally calculated and figured he had only $3.54. Lunch buffet was $6.50.

"Do I have enough?" he asked hopefully.

"Plenty," Sophie said, scooping the dollar and several nickels, dimes, and pennies into her apron. "Here's your change," she told him, quickly handing him two twenties from yesterday's tip money while her mother wasn't looking. Kevin saw what she was doing and shook his head. But he said nothing. He wasn't going to rat on her, she knew that. Winston nodded. It made sense, paper in return for coins as change.

Winston was making for the buffet but Sophie reminded him to put his money back in his pocket first. "That money is only good at the grocery store," Sophie told him, figuring it would go farther there than if he tried to use it for meals out.

"Ah, OK. Hey, nice pendant." He pointed at her medallion, the one she wore around her neck. She had dressed in a hurry and forgotten to tuck it in. It was an obviously old, rather ugly charm, made of gold and small rubies and flecks of jade. It was covered with numerous Chinese glyphs, some too small to read.

"You like it? I think it's ugly, but my Mom made me wear it when I was a little girl. It's a valuable family heirloom. And now I'm kind of used to it. I keep it under my shirt though."

Winston reached out to touch it. His hand snapped back from it like it was red hot.

"What's the matter," she asked him.

"Nothing," he said, sucking his fingers. "But I think your mother was right. You should keep it close. It's a... a sort of good luck charm."

"Yeah, she told me I have to wear it all the time. I never take it off."

"That's a good idea," Winston nodded. "I'm glad to hear it."

"Why do you say that? Why do you care what I wear?"

Winston's eyes darted quickly down to the scars on the side of Sohie's hands. He shrugged. "A little extra protection never hurts. That charm has some powerful mojo on it. It will keep you safe from all the wrong sorts of people."

"Yeah?" Sophie looked at the medallion closer. "Says who?"

"It says so, right there." Winston vaguely pointed, not letting his hand get too close.

"Oh, so you read ancient Chinese?"

"It's a lot older than Chinese," he cryptically told her, not offering any more.

Sophie sensed that Winston wasn't being entirely forthright. This was unlike him. Before she could question him further, he smiled and took off for the buffet. She had to attend to other customers and by the time she made her rounds again, he had gone. He had left Sophie his usual tipe, her favorite orchid; and probably pilfered from a bouquet he had delivered.

* * *

> 

Having helped Kevin with cleanup, having counted her tips, given her brother half, plus his share for the money she gave Winston, Sophie was getting ready to leave for the Bay Area. She told her Mom that she had morning classes and needed to study. Truth was, school term hadn't started yet. Sophie just couldn't take more than a weekend at home anymore. Myung was counting the intake from lunch in the back storeroom. Sophie gave her father a hug and knocked on the door, to say good-bye to her mother.

"Mom, I'm leaving," she announced in Korean

Her mother got up, as if in a big rush. She picked up a wad of cash. "You need any money?"

The plight of children they were helping tempted her for a moment. But given all they had sacrificed for their children, Sophie could not bring herself to take anything from her parents, who worked hard for everything they had. "No, Mom, I'm good. I'll see you next week."

Myung had been wrestling with a dilemma all afternoon. This would be her last opportunity to talk in person to So-hie for a week, so she finally let it off her chest. "This Carlos, are you sure he is gay?" She spoke in Korean in case Kevin overheard. Kevin's lack of Korean fluency was a source of shame most of time. But it had its uses as well.

"Yes, Mom, I'm sure."

"How do you know? Maybe he just pretending to be gay, trying to get you be his friend. Pretty girls like you, you have to watch out for these guys."

"Mom, I'd be his friend anyway. And you're right. I don't know he's gay. His boyfriend could be lying to me."

Myung thought about this, frowning. "You should have... different kind of friends."

Sophie was not going to let her mother get away with what she had just said."Different, Mom? Different how?" Sophie tried to be avoid confronting her mother, usually just deflecting whatever was the issue. But this was getting to be too much.

"You should have more... Korean friends. Don't you know any Korean boys?"

Sophie had tried to be good. She wasn't going to mention it, being as it was, kind of a cheap shot at her mother. But Myung deserved it. And the chance was now too good to pass up.

"O.K. Mom, I do know a Korean boy and we hang out a lot. He's gorgeous, smart, sweet, comes from a," Sophie ticked off in order the things that mattered most to her mother, "Korean, Christian, rich, Republican family. I wasn't going to tell you, but you dragged it out of me."

Myung's face lit up, beaming. She looked positively saintly with joy. "How long have you known this boy? Why haven't you told me before? Why haven't you brought him down to meet us? Do you have a picture of him?"

"I met him when I first got to Stanford. Carlos introduced us. We study together sometimes. I cook him Korean food when he gets homesick."

The look on Myung's face said she had bypassed the Pearly Gates and was already in Heaven. Her daughter was cooking a Korean man Korean food. Where she came from, the marriage ceremony would only be a formality.

"He's Carlos' boyfriend."

Myung's jaw dropped down even farther than it had earlier.

"So, don't worry, Mom. I got that Korean angle covered now. You can tell your Korean church friends not to worry, OK?"

Myung started rubbing her temples. She started to sigh, a lot.

"You want me to bring him by sometime? I can bring him to church, introduce him to the pastor. Can Carlos come? You should see them. They are so cute together. If ever two people belonged..."

"No, that's O.K." Myung said. "You have good trip back."

Sophie pecked Myung on the cheek, feeling a bit guilty for so loudly popping her mother's joy bubble. Still, it had been really fun.

Sophie left and then abruptly came back. Her mother was sitting at the desk, her face in her hands.

"C'mon, Mom. Cheer up. I know I'm an old maid at 19. But there's still hope that Kevin will give you grandchildren - if he hasn't already."

"Did you come back to make fun of me? If so, I really think I've had enough of your sarcasm. No other mothers have to put up with daughters like you. What did I ever do to deserve you?"

Sophie came around and hugged her. "I'm sorry, Mother. I was just teasing you a bit. I promise, next year I'll get pregnant, then married. Right now, I have a question for you. What do you know about this?" Sophie showed her mother the pendant.

"You still wearing that ugly thing? I thought you'd lost it. It's hideous. You should get rid of it. It looks terrible on you."

Sophie blinked. "Wow, that's a surprise. You told me this is a family heirloom. You gave it to me when I was seven. You told me to never take it off, ever. You said it would be misfortune on the family to loose it."

"No, it's some silly charm. I never told you it was an heirloom."

Sophie remembered distinctly she had, and told Sophie never to loose it. Maybe since Myung had converted to Christianity, she felt a bit guilty about her Old World superstitions, and that had influenced her memory.

"I bought it as a present for you. I don't know what I was thinking. You certainly don't deserve it."

"Really? Huh. Well, if it's not an heirloom, do you want it back?" Sophie started to take it off.

"No! No!" Myung said, leaning in her chair, as if to get away from the misshapen medallion. "You keep it. Get rid of it if you want to. But I don't want it!"

"O.K. Mom. Chill." Sophie put the medallion back. "Do you remember where you bought it?"

"Some street vendor, in Korea. I really don't remember."

"Korean street merchants sell ruby gold medallions? Sure." Sophie shook her head. "O.K. Thanks, Mom. I'll see you Saturday." She kissed her mother on the cheek and left.

* * *

> 

Sophie stopped at a phone booth just on the edge of town. She had taken the medallion off her neck for the first time since she was a little girl. She twirled it in her hands while the phone was ringing. Someone answered.

"Hey, Nickie, guess what? That money, I think I got us the answer."

The afternoon sun glinted off the charm's metal and gemstone brilliance so fiercely, it was as though Sophie held a star in her hand.

**story by Solanio**


End file.
